


my first soldier girl

by ifanyonehurtyou



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Carol (2015), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: BDSM, Begging, Crossover, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub, F/F, Kneeling, Oral Sex, PWP, Power Play, Spanking, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 19:59:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6022870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifanyonehurtyou/pseuds/ifanyonehurtyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carol and Peggy meet in the back corner of a bar, before Harge, before Steve, before Therese, before Angie, before the U.S. joins the war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	my first soldier girl

"I love that color on you," said a cool, deep voice to Peggy's right. Peggy started slightly. She’d been absorbed in her thoughts and her drink, and had believed that the seat next to her was empty. This corner of the bar was never very crowded on weeknights.

"I'm sorry?" she frowned, looking down at her drab green uniform and then over at the speaker. Her eyes widened slightly. Her interlocutor was beautiful, her face framed by blonde waves and her eyes as icy as her voice.

"Oh no, not the uniform, although you do look better than most in it. I meant your lipstick," the woman said, smiling lightly, flicking her gaze between Peggy's lips and her eyes. She sighed. "I do love that red."

"Yours isn't so bad either," Peggy replied, her eyes tracing the woman's coral lips. Remembering herself, she straightened, holding out her hand. "Carter. Peggy."

"English girl, hmm?" the woman said, still looking steadily at Peggy, as if Peggy were the most interesting thing she had seen all day. "English military girl. What brings you all the way to New York?"

"Job interview."

"A job interview! Surely you didn't sail all the way across the pond for just any job." Leaning forward conspiratorially, she lowered her voice and murmured, almost into Peggy's ear, "Trying to talk our boys into finally joining the war?"

"Afraid I can't say," Peggy said, quirking a corner of her mouth. She moved to change the subject. "But what about you?"

"How impolite of me. I'm Carol."

"Very pleased to meet you, Carol," Peggy said, and she meant it.

"Likewise," Carol replied.

"And what brings a girl like you to an establishment like this?"

"A girl like me — what does that mean?"

Peggy waved her hand at what she could see of Carol. "The pearls, the furs. Girls who look like you are all out looking for a husband instead of dallying 'round back corners of bars in the Village."

Carol fixed Peggy with a hard stare. "Sure, there are Hanks and Herberts who take me to the pictures, and I'm sure I'll marry one of them one day, but they're all so boring. Now you — you seem like you could keep up with me, Peggy Carter."

"Keep up with you," Peggy repeated, slowly, smiling, tasting the words and the implications they held.

—

Carol's apartment was huge and elaborately decorated, but Peggy didn't notice more than that as she pressed Carol against the wall of the entryway and kissed her fiercely, grabbing the back of Carol's neck and gripping a handful of her blonde, blonde hair. Carol moaned quietly, a slight "mmm" that was accompanied by her hands reaching around to grab Peggy's ass, squeezing hard despite the thick wool of Peggy's skirt.

Peggy broke the kiss, intending to ask Carol where the bedroom was, but a look into Carol's eyes had her launching herself headlong into another messy kiss, hands roving under Carol's coat and over her sheer blouse. Her thumbs found Carol's nipples and brushed them over and over, and Carol squirmed against the wall.

Peggy smirked into Carol's mouth, heady with confidence and anticipation. This time it was Carol who broke away, and shrugging off her coat, she asked, "Would you like me to take you to bed?"

"Hell yes," Peggy said breathlessly, unconsciously smoothing out her clothes, even though she knew they would be in a pile on the floor in no time.

Carol gestured down a hallway, pointing out a room to the right. Peggy walked ahead of her and Carol seemed to float soundlessly behind.

As soon as they passed the threshold, Peggy turned around, grabbed Carol's arms, and surged towards Carol, moving to push her down onto the bed as she had had her against the wall earlier, but Carol put her arms out and held Peggy at bay.

"Mmm." She gently removed Peggy's hands from her arms and placed a finger over Peggy's parted lips. "I had something else in mind to begin the evening, if you'd be willing."

"Something else?" Peggy blinked, slightly confused and disappointed. "But you just brought us to bed —"

"Oh, I think you'll still enjoy it." Carol sat on the bed and looked up at Peggy. "How would you like to go over my knee?"

Peggy flushed, thinking back to the prefect she'd had a crush on in boarding school, who had whacked Peggy over her pyjamas not a few times. To how sinfully good it had felt to be pressed up against Eleanor's thighs, to the point where Peggy had — not that she ever would have admitted it — played her last few pranks in the dormitory that year just so she would get a smacking. To after, when she would turn her face into the pillow in the dark and rub herself furiously.

Those were her schooldays, though, and she hadn't given much thought to them in recent years, when her prowess with her fists and guns had led her to take the lead in her encounters with women.

"You're not what I expected," Peggy said in lieu of an answer, eyeing Carol's fine, pale neck and gold necklace before meeting her gaze.

Carol smiled wryly. "They all say that."

"So I'm not your first then?" Peggy asked.

"Not my first soldier, not my first girl. But you are my first soldier girl. And I think I'd like to see that uniform off now."

Peggy felt her face becoming even warmer, if that was possible. She wasn't embarrassed to take her clothes off in front of Carol — she'd expected to be doing that sooner, if anything — but the situation had her off balance.

She quickly and efficiently stripped off her uniform, trying not to think too hard, leaving her clothes in a neat, folded pile on the bureau. She turned to face Carol, who was watching from the bed, still clothed. Peggy stood at parade rest in just her underthings, feeling slightly vulnerable.

"You have a lovely figure," said Carol, reaching out to brush one of the cups of Peggy's brassiere with her fingertips.

"I rather think you do as well," said Peggy, and feeling the need to regain her footing: "and I'd quite like to see more of it."

"Have some patience, Miss Carter," Carol said with a shadow of a smirk. "Take those off too, and then come over here."

Peggy unclasped her brassiere and placed it on top of the pile, and then took off her underpants. She was already incredibly wet, her cunt aching.

She turned to face Carol, sure she was flushed from chest to cheeks, heart hammering and her breath coming quick.

"Oh, you want this badly, don't you, Miss Carter?" Carol said, raking her eyes over Peggy's body. "Come along now."

Peggy went to Carol's right side and lay down across her lap, a practiced movement, though she hadn’t done it in years, and never in this kind of situation. She felt the thick tweed of Carol's skirt under her belly and thighs, and then Carol's cool hand running over her bottom.

"Gorgeous," Carol murmured from above her. She scratched four parallel lines up Peggy's right thigh, and then brought her hand down on it.

Peggy breathed out sharply. Carol hit the same spot again and then moved away, smacking each spot twice before moving on. Peggy felt herself getting hot all over, not least between her thighs, where she was sure she was going to leave a stain on Carol's skirt before this was over.

Carol now began to smack harder, covering Peggy's ass and thighs in overlapping pink handprints, throwing in a couple of very hard smacks every so often. Peggy grunted and squirmed, hands interlaced tight in front of her head.

"Doing all right there, Miss Carter?" Carol asked, taking a pause to run her now-warm hand over Peggy's much warmer thighs.

"Yes," Peggy said, unable to say much more through the haze of painful arousal that was coursing through her.

"I think that should be 'yes, ma'am,' don't you?" Carol said, emphasizing her point by squeezing Peggy's ass, hard, on "ma'am," digging her nails in.

"Yes, ma'am!" Peggy gasped out, bucking slightly against Carol's leg.

Carol chuckled lowly. "What do you think they would say, the Army boys, if they could see you like this? Rutting against my skirt just from being spanked like a naughty girl."

Peggy whimpered quietly and squirmed as Carol's words sent a powerful shockwave of arousal surging through her.

Carol brought her hand down again. And again. "I asked you a question, Miss Carter," she said sharply, laying down a flurry of smacks on Peggy's thighs for good measure. 

Peggy gasped. "I think...I think they would call me easy," she whispered into the sheets.

"What was that?" Carol asked calmly, as if she were talking over tea and cakes instead of running her nails over Peggy's bottom.

"I said, I think they would call me...that they would call me easy," Peggy said, turning her head to the side so that Carol could hear.

When Carol spoke again, Peggy could hear the smile in her voice. "I think you're being too charitable." She finally, finally slipped her left hand between Peggy's legs. But all she did was dip her fingers into the wetness she found there, leaving Peggy even more wanting.

Carol held two of her fingers in front of Peggy's face, then placed them on Peggy's lower lip. Peggy took the hint and began to suck, swirling her tongue over Carol's fingers.

"Well, there's the proof. I think the Army boys would sooner call you a slut," Carol said, wrenching her fingers from Peggy's mouth, "and they wouldn't be wrong."

Peggy's mind was empty and whirling all at once. Her ears were hot and felt like they were burning away all coherent thoughts as soon as they arrived.

"What, nothing to say for yourself?" Carol asked, clearly amused. Suddenly, she grabbed a fistful of Peggy's hair with one hand and shoved Peggy off of her lap with the other. Peggy tumbled clumsily to her knees, feeling utterly humiliated. She was a soldier, and a female soldier at that. She had been put through her paces by dozens of people who aimed to keep her from holding her head high.

But never like this. Never for Peggy's pleasure, the dark secret she had always known about but had never thought she could pursue.

Never by Carol.

Carol, who was presently drawing her underpants down her legs and throwing them aside. Carol, who replaced her hand in Peggy's hair, holding tight. Carol, who wordlessly, forcefully directed Peggy's head into her cunt, who didn't need to say anything for Peggy to start licking and sucking like she needed it to live.

She almost felt like she did. It seemed that there was nothing outside of the floor and the underside of Carol's slip and Carol's silken stockings and Carol's pleasure and the desperate ache that was the possibility of Peggy's pleasure. Nothing outside of Carol's fist tightening in Peggy's hair and Carol's voice growling, "Make me come, Miss Carter." Nothing outside of Carol's shuddering sigh, muted to Peggy by those stocking-covered thighs around her ears.

Carol pulled back, gazing down at Peggy. There was something soft in her eyes. She swiped her thumb across Peggy's chin, put it in her own mouth, sucked. Popped it out. Peggy watched every move intently, waiting for Carol's word.

It didn't come. Carol continued to regard Peggy closely. Something was hanging in the air between them, like a thread, and Peggy was afraid it would snap if she spoke or moved.

It was Carol, finally, after a minute or two, who did something. She gently took Peggy's hand and guided her onto the bed, still kneeling.

"On your elbows, Miss Carter," she said in a hushed voice.

Peggy obeyed, burying her head into the covers. She wasn't sure what to expect: more pain, perhaps.

She didn't dare lift her head as she waited, feeling more vulnerable than she had kneeling on the floor below Carol.

She waited some more, wondering what Carol was doing. There was no change in pressure on the bed, no sound to indicate that Carol was doing anything but looking at Peggy.

The silence was disrupted by a rustle. Then Carol gently stroked from Peggy's clit down to her opening. Peggy yelped. Everything was overstimulating. Carol stroked once more, featherlight.

And then she started fucking Peggy. In earnest, two or three fingers, Peggy couldn't tell, but it was deep and hard and fast and Peggy wailed, loud and uncontrollably.

Carol chuckled, smacked Peggy on the side of her left thigh, hard, almost too hard, one, two, three times, and again on the right, and Peggy bucked, all the while moaning and babbling. She grabbed Peggy's hair again, molding her fist into the back of Peggy's head like it belonged there, pulled her head back and hissed, "You're going to beg me to come."

Peggy keened in response. Her thoughts were so incoherent that it didn’t even cross her mind to protest that she couldn't beg. She was lost for words, lost in the incredible pressure of Carol's fingers fucking deep into her, and she couldn't ask for permission, and she was going to disobey, and the hot shame of it washed over her and tipped her into a screaming orgasm.

Her face was wet, she realized, where it was pressed into the covers, and she shook with residual waves of pleasure and the thrill of crying in front of someone. She didn't cry, but Carol had opened her up and plucked every last defense away.

And she was fine with it. Content, even.

Carol, on the other hand, was not content. She rolled Peggy over, firmly but not brutally, and grabbed Peggy's chin. "I told you that you were going to beg me," she said, the wisps of misplaced hair and the darkness of her eyes giving away the deadly calm of her voice.

"I- I couldn't," Peggy said, her voice soft and hoarse.

"That's not good enough," Carol said, and let go of Peggy's chin to spread Peggy's legs and smack her hand down on Peggy's cunt.

Peggy's back arched and she let out a choked sob. Carol continued to work her over, ostensibly giving her breaks by raining down merciless blows on her inner thighs instead of her cunt. Peggy was sore and sensitive everywhere and on her way to another orgasm, but the increased pain kept her sharp.

"You're going to try again now," Carol said flatly, a little out of breath.

Peggy sputtered for a second. Words weren't coming to her the way they usually did, and there was only one she really needed.

"P-p-please!" she choked out after a particularly vicious slap. And that broke the dam. "Please, ma'am, please, may I? Please may I please come? Please, I, please, ma'am, please!"

And Carol smiled indulgently, brought her hand down right onto Peggy's clit one last time, and rubbed hard. Peggy was so sensitive that she thought she might not be able to, but she did.

Her thighs trapped Carol's hand as she shook and shuddered her way through another orgasm, whispering gratitude the entire time.

"Oh, you're welcome," Carol said, and the smile and soft gaze were both in evidence. She removed her hand and smoothed Peggy's sweat-covered brow.

"Well, that was all right, then," Peggy said, smiling weakly.

—

Years later, after Steve, and the war, and what seemed like a world away from Carol, Peggy saw the back of an unmistakeable blonde head sitting across from a dark-haired woman in the lobby of the Drake Hotel. The woman looked like she was slightly uncomfortable, shifting around in her seat every so often, but she was still laughing around her cigarette. She looked happy.

Peggy smiled wistfully and turned to leave. She had a date with a brunette of her own.


End file.
